


Technical Help

by atigerlilyangel, ecaracap



Series: The 100/Maze Runner Crossover [7]
Category: The 100 (TV), The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/M, Technology, Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:16:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atigerlilyangel/pseuds/atigerlilyangel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecaracap/pseuds/ecaracap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven is no longer the only technician in camp, so Jorge has to prove himself to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technical Help

Jorge had been charged with helping out their resident technical genius - an obvious choice as far as Bellamy was concerned. He heads off to the tent where he was told the girl, Raven, worked.

 

He opens up the flap of the tent, stepping in without asking permission, seeing a girl working at something at a table. He comes up behind her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she’s doing, “What’re you working on?”

 

She jumps slightly when he speaks, her whole body tensing to try and compensate. She watches the red liquid, hoping that none of it would spill...if it did, they would both be dead. She holds still, waiting on bated breath. She feels like he might speak again, so she says through gritted teeth, “Don’t speak. Not a word.”

 

He raises his eyebrows, looking at her carefully - but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not quite sure what she’s working with, but it must be dangerous.

 

Once it’s safe, she sets it down, “I’m making grenades sort of.”

 

“Grenades sort of,” he says, slightly impressed, thinking it’s not exactly easy to make grenades.

 

She points to the red liquid, “That’s hydrazine, very unstable. You could have killed us all, which leads us to rule one if you’re going to insist on being here: don’t sneak up on me.”

 

“I ain’t the one insisting here. That’d be that cocky hombre you call a leader.”

 

“Bellamy knows what he’s doing, which is the only reason I didn’t tell him to get lost when he said he was giving me a lab partner. But I’m not looking to work with anyone...and I’m not looking to make friends.” she says - after things with Finn, she sort of wants to spend as little time as possible with the male species, lest she try what she did to Bellamy on someone else.

 

“Not looking for any friends myself, _chiquita_ ,” he says dryly - he didn’t exactly dislike this girl, but she seemed all business and he was fine with that.

 

She feels glad when he says he’s not looking for any friends. This can be all business, purely business, like it’s supposed to be and it means she most likely won’t have to repeat herself, which she hates doing.

 

“This,” she points to the hydrazine, “is very explosive, which means it can be very useful to us, if no one messes around and makes it goes boom before it should. We’re also going to make some potential bombs with it, using gunpowder as the accelerant. Again if no one messes around and incinerates us all first.”

Jorge nods, looking at the hydrazine carefully, curiously. He’s never seen it, or even heard of it before, but it sounds like if she wants to make grenades, this would be the thing to do it with.

 

“So, what is it you do know about, since it apparently isn’t this?” she asks.

 

“I’m a pilot by trade,” he says with a shrug, “Mechanic by necessity. Also not a bad scavenger and I’m pretty handy with a knife.” He gives her a cocky, little smile, trying to push her buttons just a little bit.

 

“A pilot?” she asks, the first hint of curiosity entering her voice - he might be able to help her with some things on the actual ship. Maybe get real communications established again, be in charge of lifting the thing off if they had to.

 

She arches a brow and rolls her eyes at his cocky smile. “Keep talking about how good you are with a knife and maybe I’ll have you go skin dead animals instead.”

 

Despite her trying, Jorge’s smile only grows, “Oh, no, I ain’t going anywhere, too valuable. With me, you and your group have officially doubled their mechanics. Even I know that _hermano_ in charge doesn’t want to waste my talent.”

 

She gives him a glare, but there’s something inside of her that respects him, that smile and likes his tenacity. “Okay...I’ll save the bombs for later then and do them myself, so you don’t accidentally kill us all,” she pokes at him, “And for now, we can go work on something a bit more up your alley.”

 

Jorge grins, rubbing his hands together, “Alright. So, tell me, what do you think is right up my alley?”

 

“Our communications with the Ark went down. We rebuilt something else, a way that we thought we could communicate, but it never worked. So I scrapped it to make us walkies. With walkies, we can have a slightly better chance at a coordinated effort and talking long distances about what is happening where. That kind of thing. But if we could get the ship’s equipment to work again, we could talk to home. We could tell them what’s happening, ask for help, let them know that Earth is safe to settle. At the very least, they could drop us more weapons.”

 

She shrugs, “I don’t know if they will...but they should. It’s the least they could do for leaving us here to die, more or less,” she starts to lead him towards the ship, “Anyway, it can’t hurt to ask.”

 

He nods, listening, as he follows her to the ship, briefly wondering why their people would just leave them down here with no way to protect themselves. They head inside the ship, luckily not back towards the room that they were held in, and he looks around at all of the broken communications stuff around, “What the hell did you do to all of this?”

 

“It’s been used for scrap,” she sighs, “Broken by scared kids. Some of it was just ruined on impact...melted and fried together.”

 

Jorge walks around, looking at all the broken equipment - broken wires, speakers, screens. To anyone else, it might have looked unsalvageable, but he’s sure Raven saw just as much potential in it as he does now. “Screens are useless,” he says, picking up one that’s cracked down the middle, “Unless you have any more.”

 

“Sorry, no more screens. It’s going to have to be on a voice to voice level, that’s all,” she answers him.

 

He walks around to what appears to be a control box, which is hanging off the side of the table at an angle and he turns his head to look at it, “This one ain’t terribly damaged. You looked inside it yet?”

 

He points out on that isn’t that damaged and she could kick herself for having never noticed it because now she has to say, “Nope, not yet.”

 

Jorge nods, not wanting to pull the control box out, until he knows where it goes to. “Might be a good place to start, _chiquita_ ,” he says with a teasing smile towards her. He looks up at the ceiling as he walks around a bit, “So your friends are still up there? Their comms still open? Or are we literally yelling into the void?”

 

He calls her _chiquita_ again and she rolls her eyes, “Do not call me that.”

 

“Unless something really terrible happened, they’re there,” she says to him, “Comms are still open. They just aren’t necessarily expecting anything from us.”

 

“Good, good,” he nods, looking around for some wire, “You said you made walkies, yeah?”

 

She nods, “Yeah, I did. Why?”

 

“But you couldn’t get the comm to reach your spaceship?” he says, going over to the walls, running a hand over them.

 

“Not with what I built. But I didn’t try to use what was already in the ship. I sort of started from scratch, tore it apart and made walkies when it didn’t work,” she answers him, “I’m more of a chemist then a mechanic...though, I can clearly do both.”

 

He snorts at her slight arrogance, though she deserves it with what she’s done, “It looks to me like the ship was built with communication capabilities already installed. But they’re pretty beat, obviously. If we can get ‘em working again, boost the signal, we might be able to reach your friends up there.”

 

She’s a little out of her depth with doing that, but refuses to come out and say so, “We should go back to my tent, get the tools we need, see if we can’t get that up and running in the next day or two. I can work on the bombs when I’m not helping you. And we can both work on making bullets during our down time...since there’s not really any downtime right now anyway.”

 

Jorge looks at all the stuff and nods, thinking he should be able to get something put together within the next two days, “You got it, _chiquita_. Lets go back to the tent.”

 

She gives a long suffering sigh when he calls her _chiquita_ again and starts to lead them back to her tent. “So what do you think we’d need?” she asks as she grabs the easier tools she knows they’ll need: a knife, wire cutters, screwdriver, pliers.

 

He looks around, grabbing some wire stripers he knows he’ll need, “You got a soldering gun around here?”

 

“Unfortunately, no,” she says to him, “They didn’t really waste a lot of valuable supplies. It’s part of the reason they were told to go to Mount Weather...for supplies. I want to see what’s out there as much as you and your friends seem to want to. There’s just one thing standing in our way.” She points to her war work station, with maps and the weapons she’s working on - the hydrazine.

 

He nods, looking towards her maps, which he hadn’t noticed before. He wonders what he might be able to use in place of a soldering gun, picking up a few odd things as he walks around.

 

“We could try to make a soldering gun. We have guns, syringes, heat, metal...something has to work, right?”

 

Jorge nods, “Right.” He points to the screwdriver in her hand, “Got another one of those?”

 

“Yeah,” she says with a nod, “You know how to build a soldering gun?” She grabs the other screwdriver, handing it to him.

 

“Think I can make something work,” he says, heading back out towards the ship. “Your place ain’t humming like I’m used to, but power’s still flowing, right?”

 

“Yeah,” she says with a nod, “Power’s still flowing through it.”

 

“Then I can make it work,” he says with a grin. He heads with her back into the ship, back up to where all the electronics are busted. He gets down to look for some wires, some specific wires that are still connected to the power. He wraps those wires around the screwdriver in a very specific way, until he stands back up again and grins, “Perfect. Homemade soldering iron.”

 

“Really? That’s going to work like a soldering iron…?” she asks, sounding skeptical - even as she starts to understand how and why, she has to say she’s impressed even if she won’t tell him that. “So you can fix it?” A small grin starts to spread over her lips despite herself.

 

He grins and shrugs, “Guess we’ll see. Should work, though. Used to do it when supplies were low. Not as good as a real one, but it’ll do.”

 

She can’t help but feel a little impressed by his ingenuity, “So let’s see it.” She gestures towards the panel almost as if daring him to prove to her that it works.

 

He grins, feeling her challenge, accepting it wholeheartedly, “You got it.” He avoids the panel, not wanting to ruin any wires that are already there, going for a circuit that looks as if it’s broken beyond repair. He takes a bit of scrap wire and brings it back over to where his rigged up soldering iron is - he feels confident in his skills, but he secretly hopes it works for his own sake.

 

Jorge carefully uses the iron, attempting to solder a bit of wire to a circuit; the wire burns, melting itself onto the circuit, just like it’s supposed to do. He grins excitedly once it’s done, holding it up for her to see, “Soldered. Just like I said.”

 

She has to try hard not to smile in victory herself, “Well then, let’s start working on getting our comms back.”

 

He smiles at her and nods, getting the panel together, starting to work on getting things patched up. After a couple hours of work together, communications are still down, but they are closer than they have been in weeks to being able to reach the Ark.

 

She feels hope for the first time in weeks as they work. It might not be fixed yet, but she’s fairly confident that it will be: that they can call home, ask for help, explain what is happening. The Ark may not care, may not even respond, but that doesn’t stop her from hoping they will. And she can’t stop the small smile from forming on her lips.

 


End file.
